


Drenched in Mileage

by ColetheWolf



Series: Emphasis on 'Stepfather' [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU: Derek is Stiles' stepfather, Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bathroom Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Stiles, Caught in the Act, Come Swallowing, Copious Amounts of Cum, Daddy Kink, Derek Has a Big Dick, Derek is an insatiable sex beast and Stiles loves it, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Foot Jobs, Hand Jobs, Infidelity, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Multiple Sexual Adventures, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Road trip shenanigans, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Skull Fucking, Sloppy Makeouts, Slutty!stiles, Stepfather/Stepson relationship, Teasing, Top!Derek, Voyeurism, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 17:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11948907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColetheWolf/pseuds/ColetheWolf
Summary: It is decided that a family road-trip to New York City is the best thing to do before Stiles heads off to college. Of course, Derek and Stiles find a way to make things more interesting than just playing boring car games and listening to the radio.





	Drenched in Mileage

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, yes! I know that people have been waiting patiently for the next addition to this series. I've finally gotten it all together and you're in for a big surprise, because I've made it double the length than my usual goal for these pieces of the series. Hopefully, you guys enjoy where the story has headed and remain curious as to where it'll head next. 
> 
> Enjoy the filth! :)

It was nearly midnight and everybody under the Stilinski-Hale roof was technically supposed to be packed up and ready to hit the road once morning managed to roll around. Derek and John had decided that a cross-country trip to New York City would be the perfect chance for some last minute family bounding time before Stiles took off for college. Hours and hours travelling along the highway and observing all the great scenery throughout the country seemed enticing. And luckily, Derek’s uncle had more than enough space in his New York loft, which cut out the cost of hotel expenses.

Derek had just gotten out of the shower and changed into clothes for bed. John was already fast asleep on his side of the bed, which made sense, considering the fact that he would be the first one up to take the wheel for the first handful of hours in the morning. Nonetheless, Derek thought that it was important to make his way down the hallway to make sure that Stiles hadn’t slacked on packing up his bags and getting his ass into bed for the night. After all, Stiles almost never did things he was told.

Much to Derek’s dismay, he opened the door to find that his stepson’s luggage was piled up in the corner of the bedroom—unpacked and practically forgotten. Meanwhile, Stiles was laying flat on his bed with his hands behind his head, quietly bobbing his head to the rhythm of whatever loud music was blaring through his headphones. The stubbornness shouldn’t have been such a surprise, but it was irksome nonetheless.

Swiftly, Derek strode over and ripped the headphones off of Stiles’ head—demanding the teenager’s attention. Stiles initially jumped in surprise from the abrupt interaction, but somewhat calmed once he saw that it was Derek, instead of his father.  So instead of gearing up to slip into an argument, Stiles put on his best innocent smile in an attempt to sway Derek’s authoritative attitude. Although, it didn’t appear to work its typical wonders.

“I thought your father told you hours ago to get your bags packed up for the trip.” Derek said, pointing over to where Stiles’ luggage was stacked.

“Yeah—” Stiles started, sitting upwards. He shifted his body around to the side of his bed, sitting in such a way that Derek could stand in-between his legs. “Are you going to punish me for not following orders?”

Derek’s hardened face appeared to soften with a touch of warmth. He hooked his hands underneath Stiles’ bent knees and pulled the boy closer to his body, watching excitement flood onto Stiles’ face. He leaned forward and took Stiles’ lips for a sensual kiss, taking his time to explore deep within Stiles’ mouth with his tongue. It was easy to melt the teenager into his touch.

“And you’re in luck, because your dad is fast sleep.” Derek mumbled against Stiles’ lips, letting his hand trail down to playfully paw at where Stiles was growing hard in his loose boxers. “Well—actually, you _would_ have been in luck, but since you didn’t want to pack your bags, that’ll be the only action you get tonight.”

“You’re fucking joking.” Stiles deadpanned, analyzing Derek’s face for a proper explanation, but it never came.

“When your father and I tell you to do something, we expect you to listen.” Derek explained, annoyingly too fatherly. “It’s too bad. I probably would have sent you to bed with sweet dreams.” He said, making a show of grabbing his own bulge through his pajama bottoms—giving himself a shake and watching Stiles’ face fall with genuine defeat.

Smugly, Derek strut out of the room—gesturing towards the stack of unpacked suitcases—before stepping outside of Stiles’ bedroom. There were times when it fucking sucked to have to play the strict parent, but that’s somewhat what he had signed up for when he had married Jonathan. Although, he hadn’t technically signed up for the job of giving himself blue balls just to teach somebody else a lesson. It was an unfortunate case, but Derek knew he’d end up having to jerk off—knowing that Stiles would most likely be right down the hall doing the same.

+

By seven o’clock in the morning, the three men of the household were already out on the road—setting out on the lengthy trip across the country.  Unfortunately, most of the excitement was muted by their collective tiredness. Of course, Stiles was still bitter about the night before with Derek and all of his savage teasing. Meanwhile, Derek had spent way too long getting himself off to the thought of what would have went down in Stiles’ bedroom, had he not decided to play the parent.  And John just wasn’t a morning person.

After a couple hours, John and Derek had elected to switch up the driving roles. John wanted to slip back into sweet slumber unconsciousness and Derek had no other choice but to take the wheel. All the while, Stiles lounged around in the backseat of the car—browsing the web and messing around with his various social media accounts. He didn’t appear to be in the greatest of moods and would occasionally shoot Derek a glare through the rear-view mirror.

It was obvious payback for the night before.

Stiles felt like the backseat was the best place to simmer. Not only was he still sore at Derek for his ridiculous antics about the unpacked luggage, but he was also frustrated with the whole road trip idea. Sure, it would be nice to hang out with the family before college, but a road trip was way too much. And on top of that, Stiles absolutely hated Derek’s obnoxious uncle. He was a manipulative piece of shit who always managed to turn things to shit without lifting a finger. He was a master of mischief and Stiles wasn’t excited to deal with it.

So, he sat quietly in the back and sulked—browsing through the internet in a desperate attempt to find something stimulating. Which, unsurprisingly led Stiles towards exploring the wonderful world of porn for his own backseat enjoyment. Porn was great and Stiles was still backed up from the night before. He had managed to jerk off, but it had been incredibly unsatisfying and rushed. Naturally, things settled back into place and Stiles was stuck with the urge to shoot a load.

The issue was that his father was sitting in the passenger seat, directly in front of him. Albeit, he was fast asleep—still, he figured that it would be way too risky to pull down his pants and stroke himself to completion. The lewd idea and the risk of getting caught—as always—were incredibly arousing, which made things even more of a problem. On top of the fact that Derek was driving and wouldn’t be able to really stop him from doing what he wanted made things even more enticing than they should have been.  

Eventually, Stiles managed to find an incredibly raunchy porno about some college hunk pool boy “accidentally” losing his swim trunks and getting caught by the super attractive pool owner. Unbelievably unrealistic and dramatic as hell, it didn’t matter. The dudes were beyond hot and the whole taboo storyline sent shockwaves down to Stiles’ cock—plumping it up, twitch-by-twitch, until his jeans became more uncomfortable than sitting in the back of the car.

Desperate, Stiles reached down and began to innocently rub himself through the thickness of his pants—trying not to draw too much attention to himself. He held his phone with the porno playing in one hand, kept the earbuds stuffed harshly into his ears, and worked himself over the best that he could with his free hand. Though, masturbation was almost never done with one simple trick. The key to really getting off was to switch things up every couple of minutes, almost in stages, until orgasm.

It didn’t take long before Stiles couldn’t handle the heat under the hood. He set his phone down onto his thigh and made quick work of unbuckling his belt, before he unzipped his pants. He shimmed his pants and boxers down the best that he could until they were down mid-thigh. It was just enough free room to allow for his throbbing dick to breathe into the stuffy openness of Derek’s car. He knew that he could really get his hands on himself without feeling entirely stuck.

Stiles wrapped his fingers around himself and kicked things up to a steady pace. He worked himself over with a flare to his wrist movement—a little twist action, some tugging, and the drag of his dry thumb over the head of his sensitive and leaking cock slit. Even his hips started to gyrate in slow, controlled movement. Though, he made sure not to make too much of a commotion or accidentally knee the back of his father’s seat. The last thing he wanted was for his actual father to get an eyeful of whatever happened to fly through the air at the moment—whether that be Stiles’ embarrassment or _something_ else.

Within seconds, Derek caught a glimpse of the backseat sin show—not being able to believe his eyes at first. He knew that Stiles was a mischievous and actively horny teenager, but this was on an entirely different level when it came to kinky desperation. He honestly couldn’t believe it, but he also couldn’t stop stealing glances through the rear view mirror, whilst trying to keep his attention to the road. Stiles was going to cause an accident and he’d have to explain to the police that it was all because he couldn’t keep his dick in his damn pants.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Derek whispered, looking over his shoulder to catch Stiles’ response. To no avail, Stiles’ eyes were closed and his earbuds were still in—closing him off from any other sounds.

Derek’s second attempt at capturing Stiles’ attention was a little less subtle. He reached back with his right hand and slapped Stiles’ knee, watching as the boy’s eyes shoot open in obvious alarm. He waited for Stiles to remove the earbuds and zip himself back up, but instead, Stiles continued to stroke himself whilst maintaining what eye contact he could manage. Naturally, Derek felt his gut flutter with a mixture of feelings.

The whole thing was bold—though not quite as bold as fucking the boy in the hallway of his school with senior prom going on around them, or fucking Stiles in front of one of his friends, or cheating on his husband. When he really thought about it, Stiles really needed to step up his game. He was really slacking in the department of making the strong moves. However, jerking off in the backseat with your sleeping father within earshot was something to be admired.

At least, Derek thought so.

 Stiles knew what he was doing. He knew that Derek couldn’t keep his pervy gaze off the backseat action. So, he decided to make a show of it—tugging his pants all the way know to his ankles, where they got caught at his shoes. His body shivered at the fact that he was practically naked from the waist down, bare ass pressed against the leather of Derek’s interior. He spread his legs as wide as he could make them and set his phone down atop his thigh, proceeding to wrap both of his hands around the shaft of his cock.

Derek continued switching glances between the empty highway in front of him and his obscene stepson behind him. He casually looked over to John, who was slouched over against the passenger side door. For the time being, Derek knew that things could continue. So as long as John wasn’t stirring awake, Stiles could play, and Derek could jealously watch from behind the wheel.

Stiles fucked into the grip of both of his hands, thrusting his hips and down as sensually as he could do it. The porn was still playing on his phone, but his attention had shifted to Derek. The sounds of moans, groans, and slapping assaulted his ears, allowing him to fantasize about all of the sounds that he and Derek made during their various sexual encounters. It was always something incredibly hot to think about, and Stiles desperately wanted nothing more than to jump Derek’s bones as he drove down the road.

From the rear-view mirror, Derek’s lustful gaze seared into Stiles’ skin—making him choke up a mumbled moan. Hungry for more stimulation, Stiles pushed up his shirt and slid his hand along his abdomen. He tickled through the trail of hair that started at his dick and lead up to his navel, and then proceed to move his hand along until he could tweak at one of his nipples.  His mouth dropped open at his own touch.

Derek shifted uncomfortably from where he sat in the driver’s seat—attempting to alleviate some of the pressure that radiated from his own troublesome cock. He took one hand off of the wheel and palmed at himself, drinking in everything that Stiles was putting on display through the mirror. Derek took special notice at the pornographic curve of Stiles’ open lips and the way his long fingers worked over his nipples. He throbbed at the way that Stiles’ fair skin clashed against the dark color of the seat’s upholstery and the way that Stiles’ hairy legs remained obscenely open.

There was no way to fight off the urge to get himself inside of Stiles. Derek started fidgeting, almost involuntarily, barely keeping his attention on the road anymore. Though, by his sheer amount of luck, Derek caught sight of an approaching rest stop that was stationed off the main highway. It appeared to be empty, with only a couple sixteen-wheelers parked for rest. The fact that the rest stop was in the middle of nowhere—completely washed out by the dry brush of California’s hills, made it the perfect place to sneak away for just a couple minutes. Just enough time to get himself off with Stiles.

Quickly, Derek veered off the highway and took the exit to the rest stop. He pulled into the parking lot and took one of the numerous empty spaces, putting the car in park, and turning off the engine. Meanwhile, Stiles hurriedly pulled up his pants and stuffed his cock back into the confines of public decency, because he knew that the lack of motion in the car would jolt his father back to awareness.

Stiles paused his video and ripped out his earbuds. “What are you doing here?” he asked, slightly whispered.

“Get out and go to the bathroom.” Derek ordered hurriedly, unbuckling his seatbelt and swinging open his door.

Stiles exited the car, somewhat unsure as to what Derek was trying to accomplish. He didn’t ask questions; on account of the fact that Derek seemed unwilling to stir John away from complete sleep. Physically, his own body was still tingling with desire, but in his mind, he figured that perhaps Derek wanted to trade handjobs in the rest stop to put the both of them in a state of satisfaction. It didn’t really matter, because Stiles was pretty much down with whatever.

As Stiles briskly jogged over to the public restroom, Derek tried to scoot himself out of the car without waking John. Unfortunately, just before Derek was about to shut the door and head over to the bathroom, John snorted awake—taking a moment to scope out his immediate surroundings, before rubbing tirelessly at his eyes and forehead.

“Hey—where are we?” John asked groggily.

“I stopped at a rest stop.” Derek said impatiently. “Just go back to sleep. I’ll be right back.”

He shut the door and made his way over to the bathroom, trying to avoid looking suspicious. He looked casually over his shoulder just to see whether or not John had elected to stay behind. Luckily, John appeared as though he didn’t need to use the restroom services, which made Derek exhale with relief. His plans hadn’t been ruined and he’d be able to get down to just a little fun with Stiles before hitting the road again.

Derek walked into the bathroom, already unbuckling the belt to his pants. Stiles looked somewhat confused, but willingly allowed himself to get pushed into one of the stalls under Derek’s firm force. The two of them settled into the stall, connecting their mouths in hurried and sloppy kisses. Derek locked the door to the stall with one hand and cradled Stiles’ face with his other, whilst Stiles shoved his hands into Derek’s pants.

“It’s dirty in here.” Stiles groaned, letting Derek suck passionately at his neck. “What about my dad? Is he staying in the car? What if he has to take a piss? What if he gets suspicious—”

“You worry too much.” Derek laughed into Stiles’ neck, pulling down at Stiles’ jeans until Stiles could kick his shoe-clad feet through the leg holes and cast them aside to rest atop the toilet paper dispenser.

Abruptly, Derek picked Stiles up into his sturdy arms—pushing the teenager’s back up against the side of the bathroom stall. Both of the boy’s legs instinctively wrapped around Derek’s waist and his arms flew around to wrap around the back of Derek’s neck for further security against accidentally falling down onto the filthy ground. He loved being held in Derek’s arms. The feeling of being weightless and malleable was erotic.

Derek held Stiles’ lithe body up in the air, high enough so that anybody who walked into the restroom and just happened to peak under the stalls would only see one pair of feet. Using his knee and upper body strength to keep Stiles in place, he used one of his hands to prod around the boy’s hole with the tips of his fingers. Stiles was already incredibly wet and hot with sweat, seeing how he had spent a good amount of time grinding himself down into the leather seats of the car, things got warmed up quickly.

It took only a couple minutes before Stiles’ hole was fluttering open to the slick intrusion of Derek’s fingers. He took his thick cock into his grip and pushed into Stiles, feeling the teenager’s tight walls clench around him. There was no time to waste, so he immediately began to move—slowly thrusting into Stiles’ insides, dragging stifled moans out of Stiles’ precious body.

The weakened and loose bathroom stall rattled to the beat of their bodies fucking together. Their rhythm intensified as Derek increased his pace, pushing deeper and harder into Stiles. He wanted to make sure that Stiles felt something for the remainder of the ride to their first hotel of the trip. Admittedly, Derek also wanted to throw in a little extra punishment for complaining for the first hour of the drive about how much he didn’t want to deal with “the jackass uncle from across the way”.

“I would have started jerking off in the backseat hours ago if I knew it’d get us here.” Stiles breathed, dragging his nails down Derek’s clothed back.

“Just be lucky your father was asleep.” Derek replied, licking up Stiles’ neck to his jaw.

Just as he praised John’s beneficial drowsiness, the sound of the bathroom door swinging open struck a momentary chord of terror within the two stall-fuckers. Derek slapped his hand over Stiles’ mouth—capping off any sounds that would accidentally or intentionally escape from his lips. And despite the fact that they were most certainly caught, Derek couldn’t completely stop himself from thrusting slowly up into Stiles’ frame. It was like his hips were caught in a twisted trance.

“Derek—?” John called out. “Are you in here?”

“Yeah.” Derek responded simply, refusing to switch his focus off of drilling into Stiles. “I thought you were going to stay in the car.”

Derek slowing kissed at Stiles’ neck, keeping his hand placed over the boy’s whimpering mouth. Stiles’ eyebrows were furrowed in desperation. It was clear that he was growing closer to shooting his load and Derek had no genuine intentions of stopping, despite the fact that John was right outside the stall at one of the available urinals. Instead, Derek swirled his hips and kept his rhythm tantalizingly slow. He couldn’t risk John catching the sound of skin slapping against skin. Otherwise, he’d think something was off.

The sound of John flushing the urinal and zipping up his pants managed to spear Stiles and Derek’s heart with relief. It was likely that he’d just wash his hand and head back to the car without asking any questions. Though, Derek knew better than to get his hopes up. It always seemed like people wanted to pester him with disruptive questions when he was in the middle of important work—even in the cases where the “important work” fell under the category of defiling his husband’s son.

“Do you know where the hell Stiles ran off to?”  John questioned, washing his hands at the sink.

Derek smirked, pressing his sweaty forehead to Stiles’. “I don’t know. He’s probably hanging around here somewhere. You know how easily bored he gets. I bet he went off to find something more stimulating than a car ride.”

Another punishing thrust from Derek sent Stiles tumbling over the edge into bliss, almost immediately as John exited the restroom. Stiles’ eyes slammed shut and his body seized with pleasure. Unable to vocalize his orgasm without letting his father hear, he pawed desperately at Derek’s body—trying to pull him closer—despite there not being a possibility of the two of them to get any closer. His body eventually began to convulse and he grinded down onto Derek’s shaft, working it into his prostate the best he could.

Stiles’ cock blew heavy against the fabric of Derek’s shirt, plastering it with sticky corruption. Derek watched as it drooled down the front of his chest, although he wasn’t as upset as he knew he should have been. After all, there was a responsibility to clean it up and make it as unnoticeable as possible. But then again, Derek had practically asked for it by shoving his dick up Stiles’ tight ass. It was the expected outcome.

Derek removed his hand from over Stiles’ mouth—letting the boy steady his breath. He pulled himself out of Stiles’ hole and watched as Stiles immediately fell down to his knees. Without hesitation, Stiles took the quivering girth into the heat of his mouth and started to work over Derek in a bobbing motion.  He lapped up the steady stream of precum that was leaking onto his tongue. Stiles just couldn’t get enough of the taste.

The sounds alone were loud enough to wake the dead. The two of them really hoped that John was back at the car, instead of waiting around outside the restroom. Though, neither of them heard any sort of footsteps or sounds to indicate that anybody was listening to their dirty exploit. Nonetheless, the two refused to keep too quiet. Stiles gagged and slurped, smacking his lips as he pulled off for a clean breath. All the while, Derek massaged his hands into Stiles’ hair and moaned softly.

It wasn’t long before Derek’ rhythm faltered and he shot this load down Stiles’ wanting throat. He drank in the sound of Stiles attempting to swallow everything, snickering to himself as he looked down to watch his seed seep from the corners of the teenager’s lips. He took immense pleasure in the fact that Stiles’ eyes were glossy with unshed tears as a result from the fucking. The visual of Stiles’ cheek bulging around the girth of his cock allowed for Derek to expel a couple more spurts of jizz into his toy.

Derek tucked himself back into his pants. He left the stall first, leaving Stiles behind to get himself dressed. He watered down a paper towel and rubbed generously at the cum stain on his chest, working it out of the fabric until it was nothing more than a wet stain. It still looked ridiculous, but he knew that it would be easier to explain to his curious husband as opposed to an oozing mess of his own son’s cum.  

“Wait a couple minutes and then come back to the car.” Derek said, tossing his used paper towel in the garbage. “And fix yourself up a little before your father starts asking questions.”

A couple minutes later, Stiles emerged from the opposite side of the restroom to avoid making it obvious that he had been with Derek the whole time. Derek and John watched from inside of the car. As John impatiently waited for Stiles to hurry up and pick up the pace so that they could get back on the road, Derek tracked the slightly uneasy movement of Stiles’ stride. It was clear that he was already feeling the internal ache of his bathroom fuck.

+

Around eight in the evening, the three finally arrived in Elko, Nevada. It was their planned stop for the night and they wasted no time in picking up some fast food dinner and an available hotel for the night. None of them felt particularly hungry, but they knew that they needed to get something in their bodies to ward off falling unconscious from starvation. Although, the tiredness made it extremely hard to scarf anything down with pleasure. The only thing that truly sounded desirable was falling down onto the warm comfort of a mattress.

After bringing in some of their overnight luggage, they all sat down on their beds to eat their greasy fill of fast food. Derek and John sat together on their own bed, whilst Stiles was splayed out on his own. They ate in silence, not energetic enough to actually carry a conversation. And everything seemed like they’d be able to get their dinner out of the way in order to get to sleep, right up until Stiles accidentally popped a hole in the bottom of his Styrofoam cup—spilling cola all over the center of his mattress.

“Goddammit, Stiles.” Derek grunted, swallowing down his bite of hamburger. “Is it that difficult for you to eat something without spilling it all over yourself?”

Stiles rolled off his bed to the front end and looked over everything to survey the damage. The mattress was soaked and the sheets were in disarray. He almost wanted to fall down to his knees and cry out of exhausted frustration, but his knees still ached from their time down on the hard cement of that rest stop bathroom. Instead, he threw his hands up in the air and sighed dramatically.

“I’ll just sleep in the fucking chair.” Stiles said, swiping crumbs off the front of his shirt and pants.

“Watch the language, Stiles.” John piped up, standing up from where he was sitting. “You’re just going to have to squeeze in over here for the night.”

Immediately, Stiles and Derek both felt their skin flare up with heat. They couldn’t do that. They couldn’t sleep together in the same bed with John right next to them. At least, that was the first thought that had crossed their minds. However, the memory of that time they fucked on the couch with John napping next to them seemed to ease any immediate discomfort. Still, neither of them were sure as to how they were going to make it work for the night.

Once everybody had finished taking their showers and brushing their teeth, the three of them settled into bed for the night. John took the left side, Derek remained in the middle, and Stiles took the right. It was an incredibly tight squeeze, completely devoid of comfortableness. But there weren’t any other ways to remedy the problem, unless Stiles took to the floor or chair for slumber. And he wasn’t in the mood for any extra aches and pains in the morning for the long drive. So, the three of them decided to just suck it up and fall asleep as quickly as they could.

Time passed, but Stiles found himself unable to fall asleep. His eyes remained closed, but his mind continued to race around at a million miles per second. What had transpired earlier in the day at the rest stop played out behind his eyelids—exciting his mind and body. His skin began to feel slightly sweaty and he didn’t know if it was because of his thoughts or because he was wrapped up under a blanket with two other bodies.

Stiles began preparing to force himself into slumber, as tiring as it was to push out all of his thoughts and settle down into absolute darkness. However, he felt Derek’s hand creep itself onto his stomach and move downward towards his crotch. Of course, Derek was insatiable. He was always looking for sex, even in the craziest of times. And there was nothing crazier than fooling around right next to your husband.

Derek watched closely through the darkness as a smile spread across Stiles’ face. It was the green light he was looking for, so he put himself into motion. He slid his hand under Stiles’ boxers and let his fingers scoop up under Stiles’ balls to the sensitive area near his hole. Derek knew that he had to keep things simple and calmed. He couldn’t move around too much without waking John with movement and he couldn’t rustle around in the covers without making too much sound.

Just as two of Derek’s fingers poked into Stiles’ hole, Derek’s body twitched at the sensation of his own cock getting tugged at. At first, he thought that it was Stiles returning the favor, but when he looked over at the fake-sleeping teenager; his hands were both above the covers. Instead, the prying hand belonged to John—which complicated the situation more than one would typically want to get involved with. Whilst Stiles was under the impression that John was sleeping, it was clear that John was under the impression that _Stiles_ was the one swept away to dream land.

Derek removed his fingers from inside of Stiles, prompting Stiles to lash out with a slight sleepy whimper of disproval. Derek turned his head to face in John’s direction, only to see that John’s eyes were open and dazzling in the shadows of the darkened room. It was clear that he was oblivious to the complexity of the situation, which was good, but also troubling. Derek was stuck between two horny Stilinskis with no way out.

“John, what are you doing?” Derek whispered, hoping that Stiles would remain quiet instead of accidentally speaking out.

John hushed him softly. “Don’t make so much noise. You’ll wake Stiles. Just enjoy it.” He whispered.

Derek felt John’s hand slide down into his boxers and tug at his erection. There wasn’t much that Derek could do beside lay back and let it happen. He just hoped that Stiles wouldn’t say anything or do anything to tip John off to what was happening on the other side of the bed. And as John continued to jerk Derek off underneath the covers, Derek put his fingers back to where they had been before he had been interrupted.

Surprised at the continued stimulation, Stiles’ body shifted in confusion—as if silently questioning Derek’s actions. What the hell was he actually trying to accomplish? Stiles was certain that they’d get caught and he’d have to explain to his own father why Derek was fingering him open under the sheets. But to Stiles’ displeasure, he couldn’t vocalize any sort of concern. He had some trust left in Derek and hoped that things wouldn’t take a turn for the absolute worst. And for the time being, all Stiles could do was enjoy Derek’s thick fingers finding their way to his center of pleasure.

John turned to his side and pressed up against Derek’s form, nuzzling his mouth against the warmth of Derek’s neck. He kissed at him, sucking softly at the kiss, whilst his hand worked over Derek’s cock in slow movements. Meanwhile under the secrecy of the bedsheets, Derek fucked deeply into Stiles’ ass with two of his fingers—eventually making the decision to add a third. And with his other hand, he reached down to where John’s cock was bulging in his pajama bottoms.

The situation was surreal. All of the movements throughout the three remained languid and passionate. The fact that all three of them were being pleasured in one way or another made Derek’s heart race. He felt like he was the master of taboo mayhem from where he was settled in-between the Stilinski men. Clearly, it wasn’t a typical situation. And yet, there was something so genuinely attractive about everything that was happening.

Little by little, all three felt their separate orgasms build to insane heights. Surprisingly, John and Stiles managed to explode first. Simultaneously, John shot into his boxers under the pressure of Derek’s palm, huffing out a pleased breath against where he mouth was pressed against Derek’s neck. At the same time, Stiles’ breathing hitched and he let out a slow sigh of release as he unloaded into _his_ boxers, biting his lip as Derek’s fingers continued to tug at his slick walls.

John’s grip remained tight and confident, working over Derek’s shaft until he felt warm cum ooze down around his grip. Derek’s body tightened for a couple seconds, tugging his fingers out of Stiles and reaching over to grab at John’s wrist to stop him. The oversensitivity made Derek almost want to scream out, but knew that he couldn’t whilst John remained under the impression that Stiles was sleeping.

Everybody was still to play their role.

Eventually, John slowly eased himself out of bed—careful not to let Derek’s cum on his fingers drip down at stain the sheets or carpet. Derek followed in suit—flushed cock and balls still jutting out from his boxer shorts. The two older men crowded into the bathroom to clean themselves up before returning to bed, meanwhile, Stiles couldn’t do anything but stick around and wait with his own cooling load in the crotch of his boxers.

By the time Derek and John returned from their quick hose-down in the bathroom, Stiles was fast asleep—kicking up a storm of snores, with legs and arms splayed all over the place. John didn’t think anything of it, but Derek knew that Stiles would be the one to wake up in the morning—covered in the smell of old cum. And it was even worse that Derek would have to be the one to smell it throughout the next segment of the road trip.

+

The rest of the road trip was filled with a variety of emotions and multiple orgasmic interludes whenever Derek and Stiles could find the opportunity. Between heated arguments about the traffic, or not stopping enough for bathroom breaks, or not stopping at good restaurants for meals—things were otherwise hot under the collar for the double dose pair of pleasure. Of course, their antics alone made the trip more tolerable.

In North Platte, Nebraska, the three stopped in a small diner for dinner. Whilst everybody waited for the food to get brought out, Stiles had decided to play footsie with Derek from under the table. He had worked one of his feet out of his shoes and seductively slid up Derek’s leg, right into his crotch, and had begun to apply various degrees of pleasure to the bulge that he could feel at his toes. Needless to say, Stiles had kept his composure as he gulped down his dinner, refusing to give Derek a chance to rest. The dinner had ended with Derek rushing off to the bathroom to blow a load into one of the toilets.

Later that evening, all the guys took advantage of the hot tub at their hotel. And after John had called it a night and walked back inside to take his shower, Stiles wasted no time with untying Derek’s swim trunks and shucking them down just enough to get access to his stepdad’s dick. Stiles jerked him off just enough to get him hard and then climbed on top, sinking down slowly and letting the width stretch his hole.

The weightless of being surrounded by water and the bubbling jets of the hot tub had increased the erotic sensation. Derek had gone completely lax, letting Stiles take control. He only offered up a couple grunts of approval and slurred suggestions. Needless to say, Stiles had let the both of them melt into one another under the blackness of the sky and the motionlessness of the empty hotel area. And when it had all ended with an extra stream of warmth blasting inside of his body, Stiles had rode the waves and got momentarily lost in the taste of Derek’s lips.

On their way to Hammond, Indiana, Derek had seized the opportunity to eat Stiles out into a quivering mess on the front hood of their car, as they remained parked on the side of a deserted dirt road while they waited for John to come back with a can of gasoline. Neither of them had wanted to get arrested for public indecency, especially in a state that wasn’t their own. But neither of them had been unable to resist taking advantage of John’s absence. So naturally, Stiles had documented his pass through the state of Indiana—legs up in the air, sun beating down in his face, and Derek’s tongue ferociously tearing him apart.

+

After days of travel, the three finally made it to New York City. They pushed themselves through a couple extra hours on the road, but sighed in relief once they reached Derek’s uncle’s building. Though, Stiles was already annoyed with having to actually spend a couple days under the same roof as _Peter_. He knew that it would end up feeling like an eternity, but there was nothing that he could do. Although, he considered packing his stuff back into the trunk and heading back to California by himself.

Peter was a complete asshole who always managed to create drama from even the simplest of things. He thought that he was better than everybody, because he lived in the city, owned a nice house, had money, and was lucky enough to be born with attractive genes. But Stiles saw right through the bullshit. He still remembered back to his sixteenth birthday party when Peter brought beer for the adults and spilled a bottle of it all over Stiles, not even being decent enough to apologize after the fact.

Once the doorman let the three of them inside, they all took the elevator to the top of the building where Peter’s “kingdom” awaited. Stiles tried his best to not let the lavish interior psych him out of his broody frustration. And when the front door swung open to reveal Peter in all of his rugged glory, Stiles instinctively rolled his eyes and diverted his gaze away from Peter.

Everybody filed into the open space of the loft, suddenly energized by the fact that they wouldn’t have to sleep in uncomfortable hotel beds for the next few days. And from the amazing smell that was trailing into the foyer from the kitchen, fast food dinner didn’t seem to be on the menu. Derek and John were impressed, but Stiles held his stone-like composure, unwilling to bend. The loft wasn’t _everything_.

“How was the drive here?” Peter asked, shutting the door behind himself. “I hope it didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“It was great. There’s nothing better than seeing the country.” John exclaimed boldly, slapping Peter affectionately on the back.

Stiles scoffed. “I can name about ten different things that are better than getting stuck in the backseat of a car for multiple days.”

Everybody looked at Stiles with disapproving stares, prompting Stiles to leave the threesome and find his guest bedroom. None of the older guys seemed to really care as they all immediately jumped into their conversation about the drive. Stiles could shake off his negativity. There was just something about Peter that irked him to no end. And there wasn’t much that he could do about the issue, except keep distance.

By the time everybody got themselves situated in their rooms and kicked off the task of unpacking their luggage, Peter screamed down the hallway about how he had finished getting the dinner ready. Naturally, everybody dropped what they were doing and made their way out to the dining room. Even Stiles wasn’t the one to turn down a real meal, especially after eating shit for the past few days.

Of course, the married couple decided to sit on one side of the table. Though, unfortunately for Stiles, it meant that he had to sit alongside Peter. He suffered through it, just like he suffered through the dry conversation of the table. Everybody talked about work, their struggles, their hardships, their funny moments in board rooms, offices, or while on patrol. Stiles had heard it all before, so he stuck to chowing down on the pork chops and rice.

“Well, I hear that somebody has graduated from high school.” Peter started, bumping his arm against Stiles’ shoulder in a playful manner. “Aren’t you itching to get away from your parents and run off to explore college?”

Stiles shrugged, not entirely put off by the question. The idea of heading off to college was enticing. For starters, he knew that he’d be able to go off and explore the college scene. Additionally, he knew that he’d be away from his dad and completely open to any spontaneous visits from Derek. There wouldn’t be a need to sneak around and hide their sexual desires from his father’s attention. However, Stiles was a little disappointed in losing the thrill behind not getting caught.

 “College is quite the experience.” John said, wiping his lips with his napkin.

“Sure it is.” Peter agreed, turning his focus back to Stiles. “I suggest not wasting your time for experimentation. I take it you’re still a virgin.”

Derek nearly choked on his drink. He coughed, pounding at his chest with his fist and then calmly collected himself—shooting an unsatisfied look at his uncle. “What kind of question is that to ask him?”

“A simple one.” Peter responded sarcastically, cutting another piece from his pork chop. “I was just curious. Don’t be so conservative, Derek. We all do things. I happen to know that you were never so prim and proper.”

Stiles tried his best to not make too much eye contact with Derek. Inside, his mind was overflowing with recollections of all the times he and Derek fucked around. He could feel his face blush red with heat, but tried to play it off as embarrassment from being asked such a personal question by Peter. The last thing Stiles wanted to do was drop any sort of hints about his taboo relationship with this stepfather. And given Peter’s obsessive nosiness, Stiles knew he had to downplay everything.

“I’m just saying—” Derek started, only to get cut off by Peter.

“Well, let’s let Stiles address the situation. He’s an adult. He can speak for himself and he hasn’t been given the chance to answer the question because you so rudely interrupted, nephew.” Peter cleared his throat. “Stiles—”

Stiles swallowed a mouthful of rice. “Wh—what was the question again?”

“I asked if you were still a virgin?”

Another burst of heat flushed across his face and he was sure that he was beet red. Stiles looked to his father for advice on how to answer Peter’s question, but was only met with authoritative inquisition. Clearly, as a protective parent, it wasn’t a surprise that John wanted to know whether or not Stiles had been fooling around with boys. Which, probably wouldn’t have been a problem. Except, Stiles hadn’t been fooling around with boys. He had been fooling around with a guy almost twice his age and just so happened to be married to his father.

“Yes, I am.” Stiles mumbled out, playing up a false case of shyness. “I haven’t been that lucky, I guess.”

Peter watched expectantly, slightly disappointed by Stiles’ answer. Although, he took immense interest in the way that Stiles kept looking up under his eyelashes to where Derek was seated across the table. There was something peculiar about the exchange and about Stiles’ stilted answer. Likely, the boy had chalked up his answer to not wanting to piss of his father, but Peter felt that there was something more to the story.

The rest of dinner moved smoothly without the introduction of any oddball questions. When it was time to undress the table and clean up the dishes, Peter insisted that everybody get themselves to bed after having been out on the road for so long. The tiredness amongst the three was blatantly obvious. If the dwindling conversation at the table hadn’t made things obvious, then the lack of offers to clean the dishes definitely had.

Out of the three, Derek was the only one who decided to take a shower. He let himself unwind under the spray of the warm water—letting the stress and tiredness of his travel drip off of his body. His mind swirled with thoughts and worries from the day. The idea of his prying uncle weaseling his way into Stiles’ private life and discovering any sort of dirty secrets was vaguely terrifying, but he wasn’t certain that his uncle would be able to put things together with the little time that they would spend together.

But— _Stiles_.

Derek felt his dick twitch under the spray of the water at the thought. The dinner had almost been a fiasco, but Stiles had managed to play things off without raising too much suspicion. And despite Derek’s own moment of worry that John and Peter would catch onto the situation, Derek had found Stiles’ expression of terror and embarrassment to be one of the cutest things he had seen. Not to mention how much hotter it made all of their shady business. Running away from pitfalls was a thrill.

When Derek finally got out of the shower, he realized that it had been well over an hour in sheer tranquility. The hallways were darkened and it was clear that everybody else in the house had already fallen asleep. Derek knew that the smart decision was to head to bed, but he wanted to talk to Stiles about what had happened earlier at dinner. Under everything, he wanted to make sure that Stiles wasn’t too shaken up and uncomfortable.

Quietly, Derek deposited his dirty towel in the bedroom that he shared with John and then crept down the hallway until he got to the guest bedroom that Stiles had taken. He slowly opened the door and stepped into the darkness, wary of where he was stepping just in case there were rogue pieces of furniture scattered about in strange places. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness, only to see Stiles curled up under the covers—fast asleep.

“Stiles—” Derek called out, slightly whispered. He listened carefully to the sound of Stiles stirring around in the sheets, and then called out once more to ensure that Stiles was fully awake.

“What—why are you in here?” Stiles slurred, sitting up from where he was. “I don’t need your uncle to find out about this. What if he walks in?”

Derek smiled, climbing up to sit alongside Stiles’ warmth. “He’s not that interested in you.”

Stiles rubbed at his eyes, attempting to speed up their adjustment to the dark. He watched as Derek morphed from being nothing more than a blank silhouette into the hunk of a guy that he knew and loved. There was something so intimate about being surrounded by nothing but darkness and silence, sitting next to somebody that you cared about. And Stiles couldn’t help but let his own tiredness dissolve at the hands of his adoration for Derek’s presence.

“He’s an asshole.”

Well, Stiles wasn’t wrong. Peter was known amongst his family as the asshole from the city. He was a troublemaker and frequently acted on his obnoxious impulsive need to create tension. The dinner table questions had been an obvious attempt by him to start something. And despite the fact that he had been pretty much unsuccessful with whatever nonsense scheme he had cooked up along with the dinner, the failure only meant that Peter would likely swing back around with something else.

“I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.” Derek said, trailing his hand up Stiles’ bare neck to rest at the boy’s cheek. “You can’t let yourself get too scared around Peter. You know how he is. He wants your reaction.”

“Yeah, well…he got one.” Stiles craned his neck down into Derek’s touch.

Derek and Stiles shifted their bodies around and brought themselves closer to one another in soft comfortableness. Stiles took the opportunity to take Derek’s lip in a slow kiss, sharing the sensuality and warmth between their breaths. While Derek’s hands cradled the sides of Stiles’ face, Stiles allowed himself to soften into the moment.

“I liked your reaction.” Derek groaned, palming under Stiles’ t-shirt to feel his hand against Stiles’ stomach. “The only time I get to see you so flushed and speechless is when I’m inside of you. But this was different.”

Stiles snickered, pulling away from Derek. He hooked his hands under the edge of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, tossing it to the floor. Derek, however, was shirtless and only wearing a pair of his boxers. There wasn’t much to take off and it brought just a bit of excitement to see Derek’s hulking muscles glaring in the small amount of moonlight that managed to make its way into the void of the room.

Derek pushed forward, letting their bodies fall down on top of each other—splayed out across the length of the bed. He kissed at Stiles’ neck and worked his way down to suck at the teenager’s nipples—tugging gently with the bluntness of his teeth. He felt Stiles squirm enthusiastically underneath his weight, caught within the heat of the developing moment. Meanwhile, Stiles brought his hands up to thread into Derek’s hair.

Everything remained slow and thoughtful. Neither of the two felt particularly squeezed for time. The moment was just the two of them and there wasn’t any cloud of fear hanging over their heads about somebody walking in or interrupting their moment. Both of them wanted to relax and fold into each other’s bodies—unrushed and disconnected from all of the quick fucks that they had enjoyed during the time on the road.

Derek eventually let his mouth wander from where he was sucking at Stiles’ nipples and right down to where the elastic band of his boxers rested as his waist. He gripped into the band and pulled them downwards, discarding them without care. Immediately, Derek went right back to where he was with pleasuring Stiles’ body with the talent of his mouth. He couldn’t get enough of Stiles and he didn’t plan on leaving the room until they were both satisfied.

Starting with the sharpness of Stiles’ hipbones, Derek sucked and bit, working his hardest to leave marks of passion on Stiles’ delicate skin. He then moved down to suck at Stiles’ inner thighs where the boy’s scent was the strongest and most intoxicating. And when he felt like Stiles was aching and thriving for the next step in Derek’s methodical plan, Derek moved up to where Stiles’ cock stood in attention to the cruel waiting game of stimulation—proudly leaking from the slit and twitching in desire in the quiet of the room.

Derek started with the fat head of Stiles’ leaking cock, feeling the teenager’s body jerk wildly at the first sensation of wet heat wrapping around where he was the most sensitive. Derek didn’t have to use his tongue for words, because he knew that he could get his message across to Stiles with the other talents his tongue and throat possessed. He grasped one of his hands around Stiles’ shaft and wrapped his lips around the head, letting the taste of Stiles’ precum assault his taste buds with its salted sweetness.

Hungry for what Stiles could provide, Derek worked harder. He bobbed his head up and down in slow, punishing movements—letting Stiles’ length fill his throat and touch the back of his throat. Derek pulled off and spat onto Stiles’ cock, stroking the boy for a moment, before plunging the cock back into his mouth. With his tongue, he whipped and lashed—goading Stiles’ sensitivity into his control. With his lips and teeth, Derek occasionally nipped and tugged at the limited foreskin that Stiles had to offer.

 Stiles moaned out into the room—slightly louder than normal, unworried that anybody would hear his cries of pleasure throughout the unusually large space of the loft. It was late and everybody else was asleep. The hallways were long and the rooms were set so far apart from one another. Stiles wasn’t inclined to hold back as much. Additionally, he wanted Derek to know how he felt. He wanted Derek to know much more he wanted.

“Jesus—” Stiles groaned, tugging up on Derek’s hair—stopping the blowjob. “—I don’t want to cum yet. I want to cum with you inside me.”

Derek obliged and switched up his positioning. He laid back flat on his back, bending forward for only a moment to remove his boxers, and then readied himself. Stiles took Derek into his hands, feeling the weight and heat of Derek’s hardened cock, and stroked him for a couple minutes. He just wanted to take his time with things. But it wasn’t long before Stiles climbed atop Derek’s body—positioning himself over Derek’s shaft, and then he slowly lowered himself down.

His mouth fell open and his head tipped back as he took Derek inside himself. The blunt feeling of pressure, the stretch, the momentary uncomfortableness that always found itself blasted away by an overwhelming feeling of pleasurable fullness, was everything Stiles loved about taking cock in his ass. Especially Derek’s. It only slightly worried him that he had ruined his expectations for any other guys he would hook up with in the future, because he didn’t think anybody would be able to live up to Derek.

Stiles let the feeling settle and then began to ride Derek. He continued on with the theme of keeping things slow, filling the time with a fair amount of deep grinding and pauses so that he could bend down and make out with Derek—only to resume when he felt like it. Derek let Stiles take the reins and played slightly more submissive from where he was speared into Stiles from below.

Ever so often, Stiles would clench down and watch Derek’s eyebrows furrow in blissful surprise. He reached down and planted his hands on both of Derek’s pectorals, feeling as the muscle rose and fell to the speed of Derek’s heavy breathing. Stiles could feel his heartbeat thump wildly inside of his chest and he watched as sweat began to gather at Derek’s forehead. It was clear that Derek’s orgasm was building up with each movement.

Derek placed his hands on the sides of Stiles’ hips—not for control, but rather, to get his hands into the action. He wanted to feel Stiles’ skin against his in any way that he could. The feeling of his hardness inside of his boy’s tight walls already had his toes curling and his fingers shaking with eagerness. Just slightly, he let his nails poke against Stiles’ taut skin—soaking in all of the sweet sounds that left the boy’s mouth.

“Yeah—” Stiles groaned, biting slightly at his lip. “—you like it when I ride you like this.”

A jolted thrust from Derek knocked Stiles’ breath out of his lungs, prompting a wicked smile down in Derek’s direction. All in all, the playfulness of their sexual encounters kept things always feeling new. Even if they had fucked multiple times throughout a day, nothing ever felt dull. And honestly, Derek’s power and ability to produce such sudden and damaging thrusts never left Stiles feeling unsatisfied.

“You look so good riding my cock.” Derek praised, grinding up into Stiles’ tightness. “I don’t ever want you to stop working me over like this.”

Derek angled his hips in such a way that each and every time Stiles slammed downward; he felt the thundering sensation of Derek’s thick cock slamming directly into his prostate. The sensation alone nearly sent tears of pleasure streaming down from his eyes. He was addicted to what Derek could provide. Thus, he pushed forward with as much effort as he could manage to chase a prostate massage to his own completion. Derek seemed dead set on giving him one.

The slowness of the fuck seemed to dissipate as the two hungrily chased their orgasms. Soon enough, Stiles was bouncing around on Derek’s trembling thighs like a slut, putting on the best performance he could give as energy flowed through his body. With one hand remaining on Derek’s chest, he used his other hand to jerk himself off to the rhythm of his prostate’s beating. Each thrust sent electric thrill into his body and through his cock—setting his body on fire with uncontrollable lust.

It wasn’t long before Derek’s instincts kicked in. He started jackhammering into Stiles’ weakening frame, somewhat unable to slow himself down. He was lost in the burning heat of Stiles’ insides and the inescapable sound of his thick and hairy thighs beating harshly against Stiles’ ass. He could practically feel his fingertips press bruises into the teen’s skin—aroused by the fact that he was leaving something for Stiles to remember him by when he could look in the mirror later.

From where Derek was laying, all that he could do was look up at Stiles’ radiating beauty. There was something intoxicating about the way that Stiles’ sweat-coated body seemed to shine in the low light of the room. The way his lean body flexed as he clenched down around his body’s intrusion and the way that the shadows seemed to carve out Stiles’ muscles. Even better, Derek loved the way that Stiles’ wild hair bounced to the beat of his thrusts and the way that his cheeks grew red with exhausted flush. The way that Stiles’ button nose dripped sweat down to splat against Derek’s own abs was just an added bonus.

Everything about Stiles drove Derek absolutely crazy.

With quickened breath and tingling skin, Derek and Stiles moaned out each other’s name almost simultaneously, falling into the void of complete destruction, as their orgasms washed over them. Derek’s hips stuttered harshly and he pushed in as far as he could, letting his load boil deep into the tight walls of his precious stepson. Stiles, on the other hand, clenched his ass tight around Derek’s girth and stroked himself to completion—blasting his sticky thickness against Derek’s muscular torso.

The two collapsed into a sweaty heap of spent pleasure. Stiles plastered himself onto Derek’s torso, not bothering to watch out for the sticky mess that he had left behind. Derek didn’t mind either. He just gently stroked his hand down Stiles’ back, looking up into the ceiling of the room with a blank train of thought and dazed expression on his face. He listened to the sound of their breathing calm, whilst Stiles’ head rested on his chest.

“I don’t think there’s anybody else in the world that I’d rather fuck into oblivion.” Derek breathed, trailing his fingers down Stiles’ arm. “You rip orgasms out of me like you were born for it.”

Stiles sighed peacefully, drinking in Derek’s dirty praise. “Sleep here. With me. Just for a little bit.”

“I can’t.” Derek responded. “We can’t risk your dad wandering out of his bed to come and find you with my dick lodged up your ass and my load dripping out of your hole. It’s unbecoming.” He joked.

“Falling asleep like this doesn’t seem that bad…” Stiles trailed off, softening his voice.

Derek waited until Stiles was fast asleep—stroking his hand along Stiles’ skin for extra comfort. Once he heard the snores, he carefully pulled his softened cock out of Stiles’ wet hole and slipped out of bed. He covered Stiles’ naked body with the sheets and then picked up his own discarded boxers—putting them back on. As quietly as he could, he snuck himself out of the bedroom and went back to the bathroom, where he could wash his body free of any evidence from his evening’s mischief.

+

The next morning, Stiles dragged himself out of bed—feeling as though he had been run over by a bus. Though, despite the tiredness, the aching in his ass from where Derek had fucked into him, the sticky residue on his chest, and the smell of dried cum seemed to make everything better. Unfortunately, but unsurprisingly, he didn’t get to wake up to Derek’s pretty face next to his. Nonetheless, he was certain that it wouldn’t be long until he got to fool around with Derek again.

Stiles put some fresh clothes on and sluggishly made his way out into the kitchen, smacking the dryness out of his mouth. He made his way to the refrigerator and opened it, unimpressed with the lack of milk. Frustrated, he slammed it closed, and looked around for the cabinet that he expected glassware to be located. But he was quickly interrupted by Peter clearing his throat, announcing his presence from where he was seated on the couch with his laptop.

“What, are you above drinking milk or something?” Stiles barked, walking over to where Peter was lounging around. “You have everything else in the world, but not milk for breakfast?”

Stiles found himself momentarily caught by the sight of Peter’s muscular and hairy legs, which were visible because he was only wearing a pair of boxers. And for a moment, he even found himself eyeing where he could see the obvious bulge of where Peter’s soft cock stayed resting at his crotch. The fact that Peter’s dick was visible without even being hard momentarily made Stiles’ decision to hate Peter’s existence falter, but he quickly shook himself back to sanity.

“We all can’t have whatever we want, Stiles.” Peter said calmly. “But some of us are quite skilled with taking things we aren’t supposed to have, right?”

Stiles’ eyebrows creased in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about now?” He asked.

“I’ll show you.” Peter motioned for Stiles to look at the laptop’s screen.

At first, nothing was happening. Stiles watched as Peter clicked around and went through various folders. None of the contents looked interesting and Stiles was about to head back to his bedroom when Peter let out a satisfied, “here it is”, and double clicked on a random video file. Unsurprisingly, Stiles remained unimpressed and annoyed as the video’s black screen buffered.

“Are you going to tell me what—” Stiles began, only to have his ability to talk ripped away by the video on the laptop.

Stiles watched as a grainy black and white video started to play. It was filmed in night vision and the sound was scratchy, but it didn’t matter. He watched the recorded video of his fuck session with Derek the night before, utterly stunned at the sight of watching Derek’s cock pound into his ass from a voyeuristic angle. Stiles’ ears were flooded with the slightly garbled sound of his and Derek’s bodies slamming against each other and the sound of his own voice crying out filthy slurs of passion.

He was mortified.

“You know, I don’t invest in milk, but I do invest in security cameras.” Peter said smugly.

“Don’t you think it’s fucked up to film people without telling them first?”

“I don’t know.” Peter shrugged. “Don’t you think it’s fucked up to play homewrecker amongst your own family? Ruining your own father’s marriage? Now, that’s cruel.”

Stiles rubbed anxiously at his face, spinning around on the heels of his feet in search for what to say. How was he supposed to explain himself? What was he going to say to his father when things got out? Was there even anything he could do to remedy the problem?

“So what are you going to do with the video?” Stiles questioned bitterly. “Are you going to fuck up _your_ nephew’s marriage by showing my dad that?”

Peter laughed. “There are so many possibilities, but I think we can work something out.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed reading. Feel free to leave suggestions, comments, and kudos. I'm always interested to hear what you guys have to say about this dirty little stories.


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